Mary's Song
by The Anxious Writer
Summary: Ever wondered why you have all these emotions that constantly want to pour out of you, yet you can't because you're afraid that you might just breakdown and cry yourself out of the misery of keeping it all in?
1. Prologue

Prologue

Ever wondered why you have all these emotions that constantly want to pour out of you, yet you can't because you're afraid that you might just breakdown and cry yourself out of the misery of keeping it all in? Well, that doesn't happen to me much because I've got a secret antidote.

_"What?"_ You ask. _Music_ of course! I have always loved writing music since I learned how to play my first guitar. I love building the lyrics, like putting jigsaw pieces together to form a picture. I love that I could write it down on practically anything, a piece of paper, my iPhone, even on tissue paper in desperate times. And I most especially love playing it on my guitar, trying to find the right chords that would fit the melody stuck in my head. It all just naturally comes to me.

_People haven't always been there for me, but music always has._

Okay, I told you the antidote, now you're probably wondering why it's a secret. It's a secret because I have never played any of my music to anyone but my shower handle and my pet cat, Meredith. She usually meows right after. That has to count for something, right?

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**Author's Note: **Hey guys! I'm new, and this is the first story I've ever published here. I've only been writing for almost a year now, and it would be much appreciated if you could review and give some advice in my writing. Oh, and English is not my native language, so I'm very sorry if I have some grammatical errors in this story.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Staring blankly at a piece of paper seems to happen a lot to me these days. I'm losing inspiration for any kind of writing, but I'm determined to finish this song and get it all off my chest. It's nothing special, just another typical love song, like all of the other songs I've ever written, but it bugs me when I can't finish a song within my one month limit.

For me, love and heartbreak are the easiest things to write about. I guess it's 'cause I think love and pain are the strongest emotions a human can have, and I let those emotions out by writing a song about it. I even have a five minute rule. It's when I get to meet someone for a whole five minutes and when they leave a good or bad impression on me, they deserve a song written about them. Good thing they don't know about that, or I wouldn't have anyone wanting to meet me anymore.

"Taylor, dinner's almost ready! Get down from your cave." My mom yells from downstairs just when I have finally thought of a next line for my song.

"Just a sec!" I yell back so I can write down the lyrics.

"Be down before dinner, okay? The Roberts are coming over!"

_Ahhh, The Roberts. _The Roberts have been a close family friend for years. They have dinner here sometimes, just to talk or have a little good time. They live next door and I've known them for almost all my life

Mr. and Mrs. Roberts are basically like my second parents. Yes, they outranked all my teachers by a long shot. Unfortunately, they have a son named Corey. Don't get me wrong, you may think that a nice family like them would have a nice little boy- _Wrong! _Actually, their son is a nightmare. Well, for me at least. On the bright side, he hasn't come here since I was in middle school and I'm already becoming a sophomore this year. He went to New York and stayed with her older sister, Michelle. I haven't heard from him since. Well, I try not to, at least.

You're probably wondering why I'm so relieved of the fact that he's not here and why I hate him so much. First of all, he's a pain in the ass. Second, I'm in love with him. Yes, you read it right. I'm utterly, unreservedly, wholeheartedly (insert any similar adverbs here) in love with him.

_ Why? Remember, you can easily mistake love with loathing._

Want to know when this happened? Well, it wasn't actually recent. I've been in love with him since I was seven. I know what you're thinking, isn't that too young for you to be in love with someone. Obviously, you didn't have a childhood sweetheart. You know, the boy who gave you a lollipop ring and swore to marry you one day .The boy who even played with you and your dollies just so he can act like the husband while you play as the wife. All of that cute puppy dog love thing. We weren't actually like _that_. We were more like childhood frenemies who played pranks and teased each other, but had a strong and unbreakable bond.

Now, back to how it all started. It all began when Mr. and Mrs. Roberts took Corey to our house, just like any other normal weekend. I was playing by the maple tree in our backyard, trying to figure out how I could get some maple syrup from it. I was startled by a familiar annoying voice and this annoying voice came from an annoying nine year old boy who doesn't know what 'Don't you _ever_ come near me!' meant.

"_Hey Tay! Wanna play?"Corey asked._

"_No." One of my favorite comebacks back then, until now actually. I didn't bother facing him 'cause I knew he'd just say something more stupid or annoying._

"_Come on, it'll be fun. Oh, I forgot, you're no fun at all." That snapped something inside me and I immediately turned around, shooting him a very convincing death glare, even coming from a seven year old girl._

"_I said no. Now run along and play with a bone or something." Ha ha, that was sassy._

"_If you don't play with me then, then-"_

"_Then what?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer._

"_Then I'll beat you up. Besides, I'm way bigger than you. I can take you down anytime." He stood tall and tried show off his non-existent muscles by posing like Popeye. He even pretended to open a can of spinach before posing. I would have found it insanely cute if I didn't hate him so much._

"Oh_ really? How many times have I heard that?" He always threatened me with that line, but he never did hurt me, not even once. Well, except on some payback pranks, which doesn't count._

"_Come on, please?" he pleaded once more, finally doing that stupid puppy dog eyes and pouty lips trick that always seemed to make me give in._

"_Fine, but in one condition," I held up my pointer finger. He nodded eagerly "I dare you to kiss me." I was only joking back then. I knew he would never agree that's why I dared him, to make him go away. But surprisingly, he didn't._

"_Okay," I was shocked to hear him agree. He leaned in towards me and the voice inside my head kept telling me to run as fast as I could. So I did._

"_Get away from me!" I shrieked as I was running around the backyard like I was in a marathon._

"_You dared me to kiss you! Don't worry; I don't have cooties only girls have those." He was getting close to catching up with me._

"_Yes you do! Boy cooties are the ickiest!" I kept running and running until he finally caught me from behind with his hands around my waist."_

"_Let me go!" I struggled to get away, kicking and clawing my way out of his grip. He was laughing so much and I didn't notice that I was laughing too._

And then he kissed me. No, not the kiss on the lips as you were all expecting. When I finally stopped struggling and calmed down, he kissed me on the cheek. Yes, _the cheek_. What did you expect, a seven year old and a nine year old making out in the backyard? Tsk, Tsk, You pervert.

When he kissed me, I fell in love. Yeah, not exactly, when he kissed me I almost broke his arm; pinning it to his back and making him swear to _never _do that again. Of course, a seven year old would never feel all those lovey-dovey feelings at that age. But as the years went by, I started to discover just how much he really meant to me.

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**Author's Note: **Well, I hope it didn't turn out as horrible as I predicted. I really hope you would review it. By the way, this story is inspired by Taylor Swift's "Mary's Song (Oh My My My)"


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Taylor, it's time to get down _now!_" My mom roared from downstairs, and I quickly snapped back to reality. I look at the clock, it's already 8 o'clock. I've been daydreaming for almost 20 minutes straight.

I go downstairs wearing my pink pajamas with Twilight Sparkle from My Little Pony Friendship is Magic all over it and my fluffy Rainbow Dash slippers (Hey, it's a great show and I couldn't help myself, they were on sale.) I am going to tell them that I want to sleep early. You know, so I could get away with all their boring grown up chit-chats. Looking cute and childish would probably make them agree, right? I know, this is the stupidest idea ever, but these pajamas are the coziest thing I've ever worn. I'm tempted to wear them everywhere.

I am already at the bottom of the stairs when I hear a faintly familiar laugh coming from the dining room. It's placed next to the stairs so I can hear their voices clearly and one seems very familiar but I couldn't remember a face to go with the voice.

I hear footsteps getting nearer and just as I am getting ready to turn around and leave, there he is standing right in front of me.

When we were younger, everyone thought we were siblings or sometimes even twins. He used to blond like me, but now his hair is a shade of golden brown, like the cream-colored walls in my room whenever it's hit by the brilliant lights of the sunset. His big brown eyes still shined like pretty lights just like it did years ago. And those adorable freckles are still there, making me envy him all over again.

My heart is doing all kinds of flips and I feel the waking butterflies flapping their wings inside my stomach. I notice that I am holding my breath. I will myself to breathe again and to not look at his face. So I try to focus on what he is wearing. "A plain white shirt, worn-out jeans and converse shoes," I recite in my head. I always do this when I'm reading fashion magazines, enumerating the names of what the models are wearing so I can remember them the next time I go shopping.

And then _Bam! _It hit me like an eighteen-wheeler truck. I look down at what _I _am wearing and, I swear I could feel the prickling hot feeling of turning red with embarrassment from my face down to my toes. I chance a peek at him, to see if he thinks I'm a total dork. He's staring at me like he's not sure who I am, but his eyes suddenly lit up like it always does. And just as I'm thinking he hasn't notice my ridiculous outfit, he gives me a scrutinizing smirk! Ugh, the _nerve!_ If I didn't love him, and if I wasn't too embarrassed to do anything, I would've smacked that smirk off his face!

Instead, I act like an idiot and say, "I-I'll be right back," then bolt upstairs to change my clothes. I still can't believe he saw me wearing my Pony Pajamas! Yes, he'd seen me wearing this kind of stuff when we were young but not when I'm sixteen! I put on some decent clothes and march downstairs again. He's still there, looking at me with an expression I couldn't figure out.

"What took you so long?" he asks, forming a playful smirk on his lips. I don't know if he's smirking to annoy me or if he's actually amused of my idiocy. "I-I had…" I try to find an excuse, "I had to do my homework?" I mentally kick myself. What kind of excuse is that? His smile grows wider, turning into a grin. I officially _know_ that he thinks I'm a total dork.

"Does your homework consist of a sudden change of clothing?" he motions to my outfit. Making me more embarrass than I already am seems to be his favorite sport. I shoot him one of my famous death glares, though; I know it never works on him.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

We sit down for dinner; my chair and his chair facing each other, just like old times. I try to avoid talking or making eye-contact with him or anyone else. I never got the chance to tell Corey about my feelings for him. Probably because I know he'll never feel the same way or it would ruin our friendship and all that kind of drama.

"So Taylor," Mrs. Roberts asks, right when I thought I'd successfully avoided any of their attention, "I heard you won a writing competition in your school?" she continues. I nod and give her a shy smile. I know I haven't told anyone about my songwriting, but I got to let out my writing frustration somewhere, right? "It was only an essay writing competition," I exclaim, not taking my eyes off my plate since I could feel Corey's eyes staring at me.

"I didn't know you could write." Corey butts in. I couldn't ignore the amusement in his voice, but I don't know why it rubs me in a wrong way. I momentarily take my eyes off my plate and look at him.

"Well, you obviously know nothing about me." I blurt out before I could stop myself. It seems that my brain is in no way intact to my mouth. Of course he knows me. He knows me even more than I know myself, but my mouth doesn't think so. And here I am now with everybody's eyes on me for saying the most inaccurate statement ever. Corey leans into his chair a little bit, but his usual expressive face suddenly turned blank and emotionless. He's always been known to give silent treatments, but he never shut his mouth when he was angry with me. I think I'm going to get the same treatment now.

I go back to my messy plate. I've been playing with my food since dinner started and taking little bites of it now and then.

"So, uhm, Corey, are you going to study here in Nashville again?" My dad asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Being his cheery self, he hates awkward silence almost as much as I hate grownup chit-chats.

"Yes Mr. Swift. Michelle is going to get married, so I figured that I should get my butt off her apartment." He jokes. Everyone laughs except me. I am too busy trying to pretend I'm not concerned by the fact that Corey is going to the same school as me again, which makes it a hundred times harder for me to ignore my feelings for him!

After dinner, I immediately went upstairs to finish my song.

I'm already finding a tune for the bridge and setting the paper aside when I suddenly hear someone clear their throat. I look up and guess who I see? Corey leaning by the door with his hands in his pockets, giving me the same undistinguishable look as before.

"How long have you been there?" my heartbeat could be heard from a neighboring planet. And once again, I feel the sensation of turning red all over.

"Long enough," he says, obviously looking amused, "I didn't know you could write songs" I am about to speak when he suddenly cut me off saying, "And don't tell me I know nothing about you. You and I both know that's not true."

"Sometimes people change," I mumble out of breath. It's unfair that he's got this effect on me. He stepped in closer and leaned down until we're face-to-face. For a hopeful second, I assume he's going to kiss me, but then he moves in and whispers to my ear, "Well, I really hope you didn't change,"

"So, could I hear the song you're writing?" he asks, sitting on my bed like nothing happened. I shake my head.

"And why not?" he asks.

"It's not even that good," I admit. I also don't want him to hear how it's obviously written for him, along with the majority of my songs.

"Come on, please?" he pleads, with the same puppy dog eyes and pouty lips trick he used to do. Gosh, why do I have a weakness for that pathetic trick of his? But seeing him doing it in teenager form is just too much for me to bear.

I sigh and say, "Alright… but only the first verse, okay?" I pick up my guitar and start strumming the song I'm writing. "This song is called I'd Lie," and it is originally written for him.

"I don't think that passenger seat

Has ever looked this good to me.

He tells me about his night,

And I count the colors in his eyes.

He'll never fall in love he swears,

As he runs his finger through his hair.

I'm laughing 'cause I hope he's wrong.

And I don't think it ever crossed his mind,

He tells a joke, I fake a smile.

And I know all his favorite songs."

I stopped singing because it'll be too obvious that it's for him. I look up to see what his reaction is; he looks impressed, yet I still feel disappointed. I mean, I don't want him to know that I wrote a song about him, but at least he should've suspected something, shouldn't he?

"What do you think?" I ask, placing the guitar on the side of my bed.

"I think it's great!" I smile, "You're a great song writer, you know? A great singer too. Well, next to _me_ of course" he adds, being the arrogant Corey I always knew.

"Ha-ha, very funny," I say sarcastically, hitting him on the forearm, he rubs his forearm and exaggeratedly acts hurt. I laugh at him and he couldn't help but laugh with me. I have the dorkiest laugh ever.

"So, who is it for?" he asks, after we calmed down. This is the very question I try to avoid.

"No one," I say too quickly to be believable.

"Are you sure? 'cause that song sounds too descriptive to be made up." He's grinning now, like he knows something's up. I take it back. I don't want him to suspect anymore. I try to think of a good comeback, "Uhmm… it's about this guy my friend really, really likes. I-I'm writing a song for her, you know, to him" I answer sheepishly. That is the lamest comeback ever.

He shrugs, "Okay."

_Okay?_ That's it? He's not going to point at me, laughing and yelling "that song is about me, isn't it?" over and over?

"Well, I better get going now. My old friends and I are going bowling. Wanna come?" he asks. This is the first time he has ever asked me out. Well, it's not exactly like how I imagined, but it'll do.

"But will I be allowed? I mean, it's late and…" Great, I am talking like a dork again.

"Taylor, if you don't want to, then don't come." I don't know what to say. What am I suppose to answer without sounding too desperate or submissive?

"S-sure! If you really want me to come so badly," wait… did I really just say that? I swear, I think I have some kind of talking without thinking disease or something.

Corey bursts out laughing, "See, I knew you'd never change! Still the same Taylor I know." Hearing his laugh and seeing him smile; it just gives me an overwhelming feeling.

_ I know you may not understand this, but these little moments, these tiny little fractions of my time with him, make me love him even more._


End file.
